The Realization

Steam rose from the cup of coffee sitting on the desk.  The swirls of hot mist wafting gently on invisible air currents until they themselves disappeared into untraceable nothingness.  She stared into the cup.  The tiny bubbles around the edge, where coffee meets cup, would occasionally pop, sending an ever so small ripple across the surface.  Her fixation on the steamy liquid had passed the surface and was somewhere beneath, looking, looking for something.  It was as if she were scrying, waiting for the answer to mystically appear to her in some form of vision.

A thump on the window brought her attention back to the present.  Another bird had misjudged the distance between the feeder and the glass.  Luckily, the bird did not break its neck and would live to see another day in paradise.  She watched them, the birds, as they fluttered around the feeder and once again her mind began to drift.  It was drifting back to her original torment.

She sat back in her chair and sighed.  What was she doing?  Why did she find herself like this, yet again?  What was is that seemed she must relive the scenario over and over again?  

She knew the truth, the reason.  But, was she willing to face it?  She was not sure, but there was no one to blame but herself.  It seemed she had spent the greater part of her life waiting.  Waiting for some thing, or some one to bail her out.  To save her.  To make things all better.  Yes, she was a hopeless romantic, but this was not about love.  Love was the one thing she had plenty of.  So, what was her problem?  

She found herself, again, in a place, a situation, she did not care for.  She wanted out of it and she wanted out fast.  But, as she looked around the room, taking in all the accumulated stuff of dreams and nightmares, the truth raised its head, like a viper, and struck deep within her heart.  There was no knight in shining armor waiting to ride in and save the day.  There was no genie to hand her three wishes on a silver platter.  No. There was no one.  Only herself.

Pouring the coffee into the sink, watching the dark brown drink flow into the drain, she realized that was what she needed to do.  She needed to let the past go, let it go down the drain, never to be seen again.  She could not stand and peer into that abyss, wanting it to come back so she could make changes to it.  What was done, was done, the option of returning to it was moot.

It was time to make a new plan.  She had one tucked into the folds of her memory.  Now was the time to take a step towards it.  She donned her jacket, walked out the door and felt the cool crisp air, that held the hint of yet another approaching autumn, caress her face.  It welcomed her, like an old friend and softly whispered into her ear, "You can do this."